


The sum of all things

by Alphawave



Series: The universe sings [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: By the time I'm writing this his abilities haven't even come out, Can you tell I already love Sigma?, Child Death, Dark, Even if we don't even understand it, Gen, Horror, I tried to make the science accessible and understandable, I went deep in the science so I apologise if it's too much to handle, Is it obvious I have a career in science?, Or his backstory, Psychological Horror, Quantum Mechanics, So I'm kinda making this up as I go along, cosmic horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 03:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19939717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawave/pseuds/Alphawave
Summary: The blackhole sings for Sigma. Two wholes look into the terrible past and the horrible present. Gravity is the sum of so many different things.A cosmic horror story inspired heavily by HP Lovecraft and Sigma's origin trailer.





	The sum of all things

The sum of all things

_Math was, in many ways, like composing music. There were rules to abide by. You could put together a string of numbers and operations together to create a formula, just as one would string together notes and instruments to create a song. He did not know if it was because of his love of math that he saw formulas in music or if the reverse was true, his love of music that unveiled to him alone the melody that flowed through mathematics. It did not matter. Math was a song to be crafted. He was the composer, conductor, and performer._

_Numbers and melodies made up his whole life. For decades he had been chasing after one particular tune; a song that will unveil to him the answer to one of science’s greatest mysteries. This song will be named the ‘black hole’ and it will sing to him the secrets of gravity. It would be wonderful and beautiful. A melody that all beings, living and dead, heard._

_He hummed out his formulas, singing quietly to the dust particles in the air the story of his life, but the song never sounded complete. It would have to be perfect, he told himself again and again. There was no room for discordant notes. He hummed again, changing a note or two, tampering with the tempo, key signature, time signature._

_He stared at the whiteboard, marker pen sitting in his right hand. After years of research, he had found the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle and now he must assemble them together. The formula for gravity was hidden within the numbers and operations. Day after day he observed his notes, trying to piece it together. His every waking breath was filled with numbers. His dreams was made of numbers. He thought he might never piece it together until one fateful day he found the song. Everything finally started to click together._

_He rearranged the numbers, writing faster than his mouth could ever speak. When he was satisfied he turned the whiteboard to the other side and wrote down his final masterpiece. Standing in stark black against the white background was an Upper Case Sigma. The scientists of long ago had been partially correct, black holes were comprised of magnetic fields, but it was so much more than that. Gravity was the sum of so many more things. Gravity was the sum of all things._

_His song was finally complete, boiled down to its purest essence. His greatest composition ever, never to be topped by anyone. Thousands will sing his song for eternity. Millions will know his tune. Tears filled his eyes as he dropped the pen in his hand. The formulas that sung into his ears were so beautiful, transcending the numbers and equations up to a higher plane of existence, a better one, reserved for the ears of the gods alone._

_He blinked away the happy tears, his body shaking in relief and joy. This was his greatest achievement yet. This was happiness, he told himself over and over again. This was peace._

* * *

This is chaos. Destruction. Darkness. The last visages of life, smoldering like embers fading into the cold. Gravity is his to control, to twist, to manipulate. Dead bodies surround him, breadcrumbs of corpses that led to his feet. War is math, and ergo like music; there is a formula. You divide and conquer on the battlefield, regardless of how much blood you have to spill. There is no time for sympathy or guilt. The dead, in the end, were only numbers to be crunched by the statisticians to feed the gullet of greedy war generals.

There’s a child in front of him, tears gushing down their face like miniature waterfalls. Surrounding them were the ruins of their home, the bodies of their family floating lifelessly in the air, limbs dangling down. The hand of their father was just low enough to brush against the top of their hair. He’s caused this, he realizes, but the thought doesn’t stick for long. He’s only a vessel, sent out to do what he must. He stuck his hand out and the child levitated off the ground, clawing at their throat.

They scream desperately, but it’s useless. No one can ever defy gravity. They hold onto their toy, hoping it will save them from their suffering, but it never does. The head of the cat doll pops. A bloodcurdling shriek is suddenly cut short.

* * *

_The theorem behind Schrödinger’s cat was perfectly simple and yet fascinating regardless. A thought experiment in which a creature could exist in multiple states of being: dead and alive, trapped in its steel prison against its will, an analogy of quantum superposition. It was such an advanced question of its time, unanswered for years._

_That was, it was unanswered until now._

_There were many interpretations to Schrödinger’s paradox. The one that he found most fascinating was the many-worlds interpretation, which suggested that there were multiple realities of different possibilities. There were realities where the cat was alive and there are realities where the cat was dead. To the observer peering in from outside the realms of reality, the two forms would superimpose on each other such that it would appear as if the cat was both alive and dead. The cat was quantumly entangled with its other copies in the alternate realities, making it impossible to tell the dead cat from the alive cat. Quantum coherence will fall apart at the seams so these two distinct realities could exist, independent and dependent. The cat was alive and dead, but it did not matter. It was still trapped in its cage, waiting for the box to be opened and its fate to be known._

_Still, it was only a theory, no matter how intriguing it was. The only surefire way to tell if the many worlds interpretation was true was if it was somehow possible to see from the view of the cat. With his formulas, that was now possible. He will become the cat and trap himself in the iron cage and see the branching realities beyond. All he needed was to generate a miniature black hole. It was a frighteningly easy experiment. After all, Gravity was on his side now. The formulas were precision perfect. He was in control._

* * *

He is not in control. He never is. His baser instincts propel him forward as he smashed people’s heads together, gravity pulling them up by their necks until their faces are the colour of Asian orchids. His breathing is ragged and his teeth crunch together in a vicious snarl as the bloodlust consumes him. He only knows violence. He only knows death.

There are two people next to him. Allies, his brain supplies, although he does not know how he knows this to be true. One is wearing a skull mask and is cloaked in black while the other is the shade of blueberries, multiple red lens covering the upper part of their face, making them look like a spider. He cannot keep count of how many people he has placed in the cat’s box, trapped eternally in a state of death and life.

Soldiers in tactical gear stand vigilant in front of scared doctors. He sees one of their badges, notices the name and badge, but words no longer make sense. All he feels is the vampiric craving for blood, forever insatiable, forever hungry.

“Stand down!” One of the soldiers screams, but it’s muted and soft compared to the other voice in his head. That voice is low and menacing and powerful. That voice is the one that hungers for bloodshed.

“ **Kill them** ,” it whispered into his ear.

He obliges. The sound of gunfire and the squelch of bodies fade away as he hears a familiar melody. It sings to him alone, and he dances to the beat. No one can escape the Danse Macabre. No one can escape the haunting melody.

* * *

_What was that haunting melody? Everything was going wrong around him. The magnetic field was acting up, the black hole was accumulating far too much mass in too short a time frame, and yet all he could concentrate on was that infernal melody, a siren calling him to the murky depths. At first, he thought it might have been the machinery malfunctioning, or that he was somehow imagining it. Then he gazed into the blackhole growing massively in his hands and realized that it was the source of the tune._

_The melody repeated itself again and again as he was drawn into the black hole. Every particle of his being was being ripped apart and distorted but he did not move. He recognized this tune. It’s the song that his formulas sung, similar yet different. This song was discordant and ugly, improvised nu-jazz that spat in the face of his elegantly classical formula._

_He didn’t realise he was humming the tune he made until he was, the hidden formula he spent all his life creating escaping his throat. Then another voice joined in. It was his voice too, but it sounded distant, disjointed from his body. This second voice sung a different melody. Then a third one chipped in with another melody, and then a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, until millions and millions of voices joined together, all singing their own songs, harmonizing with the discordant tune that emitted from the black hole._

_It was so hard to tell his voice apart from the others that swirled around the metal cage. The symphony of voices rose as the black hole’s tune got louder. It was only then that he realized his mistake. The formulas he sung were far from perfect, a mere glint compared to the true genius he was witnessing here. All these voices were singing together, their discordant tunes combined together to make one beautiful, perfect whole. And here he stood at the conductor’s podium, waving his fingers to pull them together. He did not stop. Even if he knew what he would unleash, he didn’t think he could stop himself._

_He waved his hand and the orchestra was his to command. A flick of the wrist and a copy of himself appeared, mimicking his movements. Another flick, and there’s a third. The singing was so loud his ears would be bleeding but he did not stop. They crescendo up, voices rising to the highest peak._

_His reward for his efforts was the limitless realities that gravity provided him with. These realities were superimposed on one another, such that it was impossible to tell the layers apart. But if the image he saw was any indicator of the future, then he had brought hell to this peaceful earth. He sung the demonic song, and he summoned in Cthulhu. He stared into the eye of madness, and it blinked back at him._

_His body uncoiled beneath him. The singing had stopped, all except for one song. One formula. The voice singing it was not his own. It was a darker voice. The voice of the cat trapped in a metal cage._

**Release me,** _it sang._ **Release me.**

* * *

The two mysterious strangers release him from his bonds but he cannot move until they slide the heavy metallic suit on him. He stares at his hands, but they don’t feel like his own. He’s a stranger in his own body. He is barely in control.

The weight of a thousand worlds weighs on his shoulders. For one brief second, he is aware of the limitless realities he has glimpsed and the countless memories he recalled. **Together, together** , the dark voice sang to him.

“What are you going to do to him?” The black cloaked person asked.

A third figure appears from the shadows. Their skin is dark with white tribal paint on their face, and their frame is large and muscular. They look familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Danger. They are chaos incarnate. “He will work for us. We do what we have to do.”

The dark voice is rattling in his brain, thrashing within the confines of its prison. **Release me, release me, release me!** His brain throbs horrendously. His grip on the leash is slipping.

“What _is_ he?” The cloaked person gestures at him, unaware that he can hear and see everything. No one acknowledges his presence.

The dark skinned figure smiles with his lips and growls with his eyes. “A person of use to us. A man that will kill without remorse or regret. The perfect killing machine.”

He hears that simple melody again. It’s the song from the black hole. His eyes widen as it plays its haunting melody and suddenly he remembers everything now. The experiment. The formula. Everything going wrong. Atoms splitting into two. The other versions of himself. Reality bending with the light. Death and destruction by his own, bloodstained hands.

He lets go of the leash and he’s lost in his mind. He can feel a million people take hold of his body, speaking the words he will never speak from his lips. Memories slip away as he succumbs to the sweet melody again, harmonizing with the others, becoming whole.

 **We are the sum of our parts,** the dark voice says. It is now the leader. It is now in control. **We are the sum of so many things. We are the sum of all things.**

He cannot protest. His objection is lost in a sea of voices. 

**Author's Note:**

>  _I researched quantum mechanics and black holes for this fic so I could sound like I know what I'm talking about, and let me tell you, after reading everything that I did, I'm not surprised Sigma went insane. Quantum physics is insane, and I can only imagine astrophysics is even more insane._  
>  Also, this is very technically the world's first Sigma fanfiction, so congrats on getting to the end and reading this XD


End file.
